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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521217">Giallo!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryent/pseuds/larryent'>larryent</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1989, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Bottom Louis, Fluff, Greece, Italy, Louis Tomlinson in Panties, M/M, Nervous Louis, Nicknames, No Angst, Older Harry, Rich Louis Tomlinson, Roma | Rome, Rugged Harry, Shy Louis Tomlinson, Soft Louis Tomlinson, Stuttering Louis Tomlinson, Summer Romance, Summer Vacation, Top Harry, greek harry, italian harry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:07:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,776</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25521217</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/larryent/pseuds/larryent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yellow. Harry called him yellow. Of all things? Yellow?</p><p>OR </p><p>Louis was a mess. A stuttery mess of weak knees and grass stains on his fresh linen clothes, his cheeks blooming a natural pink that matched his sunburnt nose. Upon his return from University, his family abandon the bustling city of London to bask in the comfort of their summer villa. With such a property came maintenance, Louis' father hired a strapping young fellow with tanned skin littered with ink and a charming smile aided by dimples in both his cheeks. Between reading, baking and painting, Louis stares at Harry, he can’t help it. They grow close under the sun of Greece in 1989.</p><p>larryent July 2020<br/>Do not repost/steal my work.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>HL Summer Fest 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is for the HL Summer Fest of 2020 !! I just want to say a thank you to the mods for running this fest and allowing me an extension :'^)</p><p>This is just mainly fluff. Enjoy !!</p><p>
  <a>Spotify Playlist Link</a>
</p><p>Prompt: Louis’ family is rich and have a summer home. louis is off his first or second year of uni and has nothing to do but wander around in the huge gated community and tan on the beach. harry mows the lawn, cleans the pool, etc., and louis doesn’t know how to handle the muscled, sweaty older guy that always seems to be at their house</p><p>This is a summer fic and I hope it teleports you into this universe.<br/>I couldn't decide on the setting I wanted—I knew I wanted 1989 but I was stuck between Rome and Greece. I loved the energy of the Sistine Chapel and earth tones in rural areas but I also loved the architecture of Greece along with the blue, blue water. I ended up choosing Greece and just making Harry half-Italian and half-Greek: hence the title is yellow in Italian.</p><p>
  <a href="https://twitter.com/oflarryent">twitter</a>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://larryent.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>
  <br/>
  <a href="https://www.wattpad.com/user/larryent">wattpad</a>
</p><p>DO NOT STEAL MY STORIES/WORKS. ©larryent</p><p>Disclaimer. I do not own one direction or anything with a brand name. This is a fan fiction and purely for entertainment. </p><p>Enjoy !!</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Songs:<br/>She &amp; Him - Into The Sun<br/>She &amp; Him - Sweet Darlin'<br/>Fleetwood Mac - As Long As You Follow<br/>She &amp; Him - Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me</p><p>enjoy. happy reading, be kind to yourself !</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KRM7eUfhtpveonNJ0ECEZ?si=rA48m4L3R2WqgBm-YGFFVA">Playlist Link</a>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It's early in the morning, the sun is just above the treeline. The rays cast on the stone exterior of the Tomlinson villa. Louis flips the page, the humid summer air fills his lungs. He reads as his bare feet carry him around the open field. He basks in the sweet silence, the lovely wisps of Greece and the words of Sylvia Plath. Clad in a pair of cream shorts, his tummy poking through his silk barely-buttoned shirt. He wanders, flipping pages, stopping to wipe the sweat from his brow.</p><p>After spending his first year of university with a loud roommate, he was in dire need of a vacation. Nothing was more perfect than his family's summer home in a little rural area of Greece. It was on a hill, offering a fabulous view of the morning and setting sun. It had two floors, and separate bedrooms for Louis and his sister. Within a large gated property, the villa had plenty of space for lounging, whether indoors or by the pool. Louis' favourite part was the beach was just down the road and sometimes, if he got there early enough, he could watch the sunrise.</p><p>With this much space came plenty of maintenance work. It wasn't long until his father hired someone to mow the lawn, tend to the gardens and the pool. That person turned out to be a polite gentleman named Mr. Andrea. He was in his early sixties and only worked for the Tomlinson's for five years before the labour became too much for him. Then, Louis' father hired a new maintenance worker.</p><p>
  <em>There was a man, a shirtless man with his grubby hands in Louis' mother's garden. The white sunshine was beating down on his already tanned back and the distance did little to hide the muscle under his flesh. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Dad, who's that?" Louis asks, eyes glued on the stranger. The man was clad in a loose pair of blue jeans and knees deep in dirt, wearing gardening gloves, plucking weeds. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"He is Mr. Andrea's replacement," his father answers curtly while taking out everyone's bags. "Hard labour wasn't fit for an older fella,"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>As his father's voice fades, Louis finds himself lost in the masterpiece of a man. From his spot by the car, still frozen, the stranger's hair was brown with the smallest bit of blond by his ears as a red bandana held back his locks. Louis gulps, catching a glimpse of the ink on his toned, very toned torso and sculpted arms. </em>
</p><p>Louis first saw Harry a year prior when he was only a fresh graduate from high school. Back then, Louis was nineteen and Harry was twenty-six. Louis only saw the back of him, but that was enough to have his daydreams go wild.</p><p>And now, although it seemed impossible, the half-Italian and half-Greek man had gotten even more handsome. A little taller and his body more rugged and fit. His chest cruelly stretched the fabric of his shirts, Louis has been caught staring at Harry's pecs more times than he can count. His arms, Louis has watched slack-jawed as Harry carried gardening equipment, furniture and propane tanks. He was kind too, he'd help Louis' mother bring in groceries and repair anything in the house. He was a prince if anything, the man from those fairytales with chiselled features and a heart of gold.</p><p>His smile, Louis was lost for it. His pink lips stretch into a charming grin that no one was immune to, worst of all, he had dimples. Louis loved dimples. The only problem was the handful of times Louis has spoken to Harry. It was always swift greetings with the limited chance of it becoming a conversation. A <em>"Good-morning,"</em> followed by a <em>"How are you?"</em> was just as far as Louis has gotten.</p><p>Louis was mature, he was studying philosophy at university. He knows his way around the kitchen and how to do his taxes. He was a man, a grown man, but with Harry who wasn't that much older, Louis just felt like a boy.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, Louis didn't know how to act around Harry. Louis was shy, to begin with. Confrontation was never an option, much less making the first move on the hunky man that always seems to be at the Tomlinson villa. It was impossible to count the number of times he's embarrassed himself—whether it was his weak baby deer knees, his tendency to slip or trip quite often, and his habit of saying nonsense or just making noise in response to Harry talking to him.</p><p>It was a miracle Louis could look Harry in the eye after all those awkward encounters. It was even worse because his whole family knew about his feelings towards Harry, his sister pushier than their parents. Although, their parents tended to drop subtle hints whenever Harry is in the same room.</p><p>But today, Louis is lounging in a hammock in the front of the house. Under the shade, as his eyes slowly slip shut when his book is snatched from his hands.</p><p>With her hair tied in a loose bun, his sister looms over him. "Can you go tell Harry to quiet down? I'm in a call and it's almost impossible with that stupid lawnmower."</p><p>"M-Me?"</p><p>"Yes, you." His sister nods, "It'll give you an excuse to do something other than ogle at him all day."</p><p>Louis, forever the bashful boy, gasps. "I-I, no!" Is all that comes, but his sister's knowing expression says it all. "I mean not no but, just... yes, okay." He was almost too kind and never said no which led to teary nights in the cocoon of his knitted blankets.</p><p>His sister tended to pry into his life, his love-life to be specific. Since they attended the same University, she'd try to set up Louis on blind dates. The men would show up at Louis' dorm, but he never answered, ever. Hours later, he would open the door and a bouquet of flowers would be lying on the ground. He was just far too shy.</p><p>Louis takes his book and follows the loud motor of the lawnmower. Harry was wearing a backwards cap and he was shirtless, as always. Louis should be used to seeing him by now, but he isn't. "E-Excuse me," Louis says, but the man doesn't hear him. Louis speeds up his steps, struggling to keep up with his long strides, "Excuse me!"</p><p>This time, Harry turns. Admiring him from a distance couldn't prepare Louis for his striking features. His strong jaw and pink pillowy lips, Louis' loved his slight facial hair. With the burning sun caressing his cheekbones, highlighting his sharp nose and just above his straight eyebrows, his bone structure must've been carved by Michelangelo himself. His stare had Louis weak in the knees (as if his towering height didn't make Louis shy already). Thick lashes blinked down at Louis, lips turned in a fine line.</p><p>"Ciao," The man greets, sweat dripping down the sides of his face.</p><p>Louis gulps. "Do you mind s-stopping, uh, my sister," He points to the still running lawnmower, squinting through the blinding sun.</p><p>"Your sister?" Harry's gaze flickers to Louis' bare feet. His voice was raspy.</p><p>"She's on a call, the lawnmower noise is—annoying. She wants you to stop."</p><p>"Why couldn't she ask me?"</p><p>Louis shakes his head, averting his eyes from Harry's abs. "I don't k-know." He wants to tell Harry to put on a shirt. It was very distracting.</p><p>"You want me to put on a shirt?"</p><p>Louis gapes, "No!"</p><p>"So, no shirt?"</p><p>Harry was flirting. "Oh, my," Louis covers his face, "Oh my, oh my, I-I should go." Without a second thought, Louis turns to escape the impending awkwardness, all red-cheeked and embarrassed. He has always been clumsy and tumbled to the ground when there wasn't anything to trip him, always slipping off counters or downstairs. He'd grown accustomed to carrying bandaids for the sake of himself.</p><p>He doesn't know how he trips or what he trips over, but a moment later, he's face first in the freshly mowed grass. Then, he's immediately hauled up by the back of his shirt. Louis wobbles, there are grass stains on his knees and clothes now.</p><p>"Are you all right?"</p><p>Louis covers his face again. "I-I fall a lot," He admits, curling his toes in the cool grass.</p><p>"I've noticed," Harry says. Of course, Harry would notice, he's at the Tomlinson property almost every day. "You should be more careful."</p><p>"I am." Louis frowns, tightening his grip on his novel. "I try to be."</p><p>"Try a little harder," Harry smiles kindly, he picks some grass out of Louis' hair, "You waste a lot of time tripping."</p><p>"I-It isn't like I want to fall!" Louis protests. "Cannot trust my feet..." He whispers.</p><p>Harry laughs and it's just like his voice, deep and creamy. "You're a <em>fawn</em>. Just like Bambi."</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Days later, the sun is still as hot as ever. It beams down on the Tomlinson property. Around the afternoon, Louis' parents have gone into the market, leaving him in charge of his younger sister. As Louis carefully adds sprinkles to his fresh red velvet cupcakes, his sister walks in, slamming the door open.</p><p>Louis fumbles, knocking the entire bowl of sprinkles on the ground. He flinches as it clatters to the ground and the rainbow bits scatter across the kitchen tiles. "Oh, no."</p><p>His sister stifles a laugh. "I'm going to a party tonight, and I'll need you to cover for me." She demands lightly, snatching a cupcake from the tray. "I'll also need you to drop me off and pick me up."</p><p>"Y-You're sneaking out?" Louis stammers, looking down at his white apron. It was only white because of the huge mess of flour, his apron was supposed to be pink. "You shouldn't do that."</p><p>His sister walks around the kitchen island, cuddling Louis close. "Please! Just after mother and father fall asleep." She cradles his head. "That really cute market boy invited me!"</p><p>"The one with the oranges?" Louis questions, vaguely remembering his sister coming home with a small basket of oranges after taking her bike into the city. "And the plums and peaches?"</p><p>"Yes!" His sister beams.</p><p>Louis knows this isn't the first (nor last) time his sister will ask him to cover for her, it happened often during their teen years but never while on vacation. "Where is it?" Louis inquires, still hesitant.</p><p>"The beach."</p><p>The older sibling sighs, but one glance at his sister's face—he sees the opposite of himself. She was loud, independent, loved meeting people and would jump at any opportunity of adventure. Louis wanted her to have fun. She had fun with people and attending parties while Louis had fun with painting and baking. They were opposites but always got along. He agrees, and that earns him a sloppy kiss on his forehead. She was taller than him even though he was older, but many people were taller than him.</p><p>His sister skips out of the kitchen after swiping another cupcake and leaves Louis to tend to his mess. He drops to his knees, cautiously gathering the broken pieces of the bowl in his hand.</p><p>"Louis?"</p><p>The boy jumps, hitting his head on the counter in surprise. "Y-Yes!"</p><p>"Quite the mess you made," Harry observes, a toothpick between his lips. His beard and moustache are unshaven, giving him a very rugged appearance. There is sweat dripping down his face and gardening gloves hanging out the pocket of his jeans. "Need help?"</p><p>"I don't w-want to bother you," Louis dismisses lightly and continues collecting the shattered bowl when a broom comes into view. He sighs, dropping the shards on the ground again and dusts his hands on his apron. "I should not use my hands."</p><p>Harry chuckles, gripping Louis' arm to get him to stand. "How about you clean the counters and I'll clean the floor, deal?" His green eyes contrast against his tanned skin.</p><p>Only then does Louis notice the utter mess from his baking session. Spilled flour and sugar, eggshells he forgot to throw out, and dirty mixing bowls, whisks and spoons everywhere. He squishes his cheeks. "Goodness me..."</p><p>"Uh, Louis, you've got," Harry trails off and gestures to Louis' cheeks.</p><p>He gasps, "Oh my, the flour!" Louis pulls away his hands only to see them covered in the white powder. Now he has white handprints on his chubby cheeks.</p><p>They both clean, moving around each other with nothing but silence. Once Louis is finished loading the dishwasher, he turns around to thank Harry for his unnecessary kindness but there's no one there. Harry is gone, and so is another cupcake from the tray.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
Maybe Louis should have said no to his sister. That would have prevented the heavy guilt and it's only been thirty minutes after he dropped her off but she looked so happy and thanked him a dozen times. Now as his parents sleep in their bedroom, he's sitting alone in the front patio. The tiny radio on the table plays on a low volume.</p><p>Some clears their throat. "You're still up?"</p><p>Louis looks up, nail polish brush in one hand, the other holding his foot. It's Harry, of all people, Harry who should be long gone. Louis' parents got home just in time for dinner, there isn't any reason for Harry to be here so late.</p><p>Harry doesn't let the silence linger. "Not to be creepy or anything," He leans on the wall with his arms crossed. "But aren't you usually in bed by nine?"</p><p>Louis' eyes drop to Harry's abs, just between his white cropped tank top and his mid-rise jeans. "U-Usually," Louis answers short, catching the sight of the man's happy trail through the dim light.</p><p>"Nice shorts."</p><p>Louis looks down and quickly closes his legs. Not only were his legs obscenely spread, but his shorts were sheer and perfectly revealed his panties. He tries to cover his upper half, but the matching sheer material does little to hide his pink nipples. "These—uh, are my pyjamas." He curls tight but is careful with his freshly painted toenails, they were a pale green, a mint.</p><p>"Then, shouldn't you be sleeping?"</p><p>"Nightmares?" Louis makes the mistake of sounding unsure, leading to Harry raising both his eyebrows.</p><p>"Are you running away?" The man wonders, stalking close enough to sit in an armchair.</p><p>"No!" Louis denies, then snaps his mouth shut. "I'm not—I'd never run away." He says, quieter this time. The shyness overtaking him once again. Harry's presence intimidated Louis, his palms sweat as darkness surrounded the estate. The shadows on Harry's face make him look scary.</p><p>"Why are you up so late?" Harry presses, his eyes locked on Louis as the latter tries (very) hard to look everywhere else.</p><p>"My sister is at a party...on the beach," Louis twiddles his thumbs, "I d-dropped her off and I have to pick her up at 3."</p><p>Harry hums knowingly, his brown hair held back by a small clip. "I assume your parents know nothing about it?"</p><p>"O-Of course not," Louis is quick to reply, he squishes his cheeks with both his hands. "She just wants to have fun. You can't tell them either! They'll f-freak out, oh my, oh my," Louis' voice goes muffled with his mushed cheeks, "please don't tell them."</p><p>"Are you going to offer me something?"</p><p>What would someone like Harry want? What did Harry even do in his free time when he wasn't here? "I can give you another cupcake, or," Louis licks his lips, "Or, I can p-paint your nails?"</p><p>Harry doesn't say no, in fact, he nods with a smile. "Okay."</p><p>"You like nail polish?"</p><p>"Why wouldn't I?" Is Harry's reply. He swipes the small glass bottle from the table, reading the label. "Do you have any more colours?"</p><p>When Louis realizes that Harry is serious, excitement bubbles in his stomach. "Y-Yes, I'll get them." He goes into the villa and up to his room with cautious steps, keeping his toes up since his polish was still wet. Once he returns, Harry is slouched in his previous spot on the love-seat and lighting one of the scented candles.</p><p>Louis drops the tiny bottles on the couch and then sits, propping his feet on the coffee table. "This is my favourite," He holds a glittery pink, "I-I love this one too, I sometimes use them both. For a pattern." He points to an orange polish.</p><p>"I like this one," Harry takes a bottle among the small pile, he holds it up to the light.</p><p>"It's yellow."</p><p>"<em>Giallo</em> in Italian." Harry says, "<em>Kítrinos</em> in Greek."</p><p>"<em>Ket-Ki</em>, uh," he gives up, "<em>Giallo</em>," Louis repeats, blinking up at the man.</p><p>"<em>Kítrinos</em>. More emphasis. <em>Giallo</em>." Harry instructs.</p><p>Under his breath, Louis whispers his final attempt at the Greek word, but he gives up again. "<em>Giallo</em>."</p><p>Harry wrinkles his nose, "not quite. You'll get it sometime."</p><p>Louis is timid at first, their only contact was the brush over Harry's nails. The silence is broken by the crackle of the old radio and the usual sounds of crickets. With Harry's breath fanning over the side of his face, Louis chews on his lip until he tastes blood. Harry was looming—and Louis' hands were trembling, causing a bit of nail polish to get on Harry's skin.</p><p>"My, my, I'm sorry." Louis gulps and cleans the small mess. Then, Harry scooches close enough that their thighs touch and he places his hand on Louis' knee.</p><p>"You were holding the brush a lil weird, figured this position is better." Harry gently taps his fingers on his bare skin.</p><p>The blue-eyed boy nods and tries to calm down because, with the slightest touch, Harry has managed to make his mind go blank. "I should have d-done your cuticles."</p><p>"Next time, eh?"</p><p>Louis nods again, he didn't trust his voice with Harry so close. Goodness, the man's musk was like vanilla and warm honey, sweat, and just the smell of nature. There was a lingering hint of cigarettes. "Do you smoke?"</p><p>"<em>Dio</em>, no," Harry sniffs his collar. "My roommate smokes in our apartment, everything I own smells like cigarettes or weed."</p><p>That was something Louis had zero experience with. He barely drank, and only then it was red or white wine during diner or family gatherings. He was a stranger to partying or experimenting with drugs. He can't help but compare himself with Harry.</p><p>Harry was confident without being cocky. He was genuine and kind. Of course, he could charm the pants off anyone. Harry has probably been to plenty of parties and dabbled with alcohol and drugs, he seemed like the kind of man to try everything at least once.</p><p>With the last swipe on Harry's thumb, Louis caps the bottle. "N-Next hand?"</p><p>Louis may have stopped breathing at that moment. Harry turns, sliding one leg behind Louis' back, swings the other over Louis' thighs and places his right hand on his knee. This was much closer than before and Louis feels so small between Harry's legs and averts his eyes from the man's crotch. Silently, he paints Harry's next hand. How were Harry's hands so large? His thick calloused fingers and hard knuckles looked terrifying next to Louis' tiny nimble hands.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The door slides open and reveals two cars. One was a shiny black SUV and the other was a vintage lilac Cadillac. Although there was plenty of space for another car, that spot was occupied by some junk and old bicycles that were too small for the now young adults.</p><p>"This your car?" Harry gestures to the brightly coloured convertible.</p><p>Louis nods with a small smile. It was just like his car back in London, but that one was a light blue and had a nasty dent in the bumper. "Do y-you like it?"</p><p>His cars were lovely gifts from his parents. Both Cadillacs had custom interiors of white leather with contrasting accents. The blue one in London had pink detailing on the seats that matched the steering wheel and side door panels, while this lilac one had light green instead. Both of them wore the same bumper sticker, a tiny holographic cat.</p><p>Harry nods, dragging his fingers along the hood. "It's cute, just like the owner."</p><p>Louis curls his toes in his shoes, squishing his cheeks. Harry was so nonchalant with his flirting, it was confusing whether it was just a friendly compliment.</p><p>"I like your license plate."</p><p>'GRAPE' it reads in black letters. "My car in London is called 'B-L-U-B-R-R-Y'." His sister had suggested '<em>ILUVDIX</em>' but Louis obviously didn't want that on his car.</p><p>"Should have called it L-O-U-B-R-R-Y." Harry traces over the leather seats, dark eyes locking on Louis. "You like fruits, hm?"</p><p>"Fruits are, uh," Louis keeps his feet planted on the ground as Harry drawls closer. "Yummy—fruits are yummy."</p><p>"You like bananas? I could give you mine." Harry towers over the boy, one hand resting on the car as the other plays with the band of his jeans.</p><p>Precious Louis is far too dazed to realize the innuendo. He gulps, eyes locked on Harry's taut abs. "You have a b-banana tree?"</p><p>Harry purses his lips. "No, but I do have a banana I'd like you to try."</p><p>That was when Louis snaps out of his trance and his face erupts in a lively red. He gasps so loud that his throat hurts and his eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. "Oh my goodness!"</p><p>Harry bursts out laughing, his head thrown back. "Dio, Louis, I'm joking." He says between catching his breath, he pats the boy on the cheek, feeling the heated skin under his fingertips. "Half joking at least."</p><p>Half joking. That meant, oh goodness, Louis could faint. He has seen the bulge in Harry's jeans more than once—now his mind was overcome by dirty thoughts. He blushes harder, if possible.</p><p>"You can drive!" Louis says a little too loud, desperate to hide, "I mean, uh, do you want to drive?"</p><p>"You sure?" The man raises a brow, taking the keys.</p><p>"Y-Yes, Harry."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
There was a campfire on the beach and a boombox blaring over the crashing waves. But sitting on the curb is Louis' sister. He sighs and struggles to help her into the car. He declines Harry's offer to help, especially because there was the chance of his sister vomiting—Louis would cry if she threw up on Harry. It takes a little longer to get his sister into the car, she complains and mumbles incoherently about the boy from the market. Louis only nods along but he couldn't understand one word. He ignores her wet sneakers clumped with sand, she must've had a bit too much to drink.</p><p>"Styles!" There is a young man walking up to the car, holding a beer can. He has shiny black hair and green eyes, a thin nose and pointy chin.</p><p>Louis buckles up his sister and puts a towel over her lap before going to the passenger seat. He slams the door shut as Harry greets the stranger.</p><p>"Stay awhile, have a drink." The man presses, "I never see you anymore."</p><p>"No thanks, I've got to drive." Harry dismisses swiftly, but the man doesn't move away. The smell of his breath mixes with the humid air.</p><p>"C'mon, you used to come by every time. You were a wild one when you've had a couple of beers. What's changed?" Only then does the man notice Louis sitting crossed legged in the passenger seat, he leans further into the car with a glint in his eyes. "Hey, I've never seen you around here before."</p><p>"Can you back up?" Harry demands harshly but he recovers with a cough. "Louis is on vacation with his family, they've got a villa down the road."</p><p>"Ah, that little rural area up by that hill? You should come by here sometime, the water is always great this time of year."</p><p>Louis doesn't see Harry's fists are turning white with his grip on the steering wheel. "I-I come down here to sunbathe."</p><p>"Sunbathe, huh?" The man smiles, eyes dropping to Louis' tan thighs. "I should join you next time."</p><p>Harry abruptly opens his door, the force shoves the man back a few steps. "How about you go back to your party?" He doesn't wait for a reply, he starts the car and backs out then drives away. The beach, the bonfire, and the stranger left in its wake.</p><p>Louis fiddles with a loose button on his shirt. Harry drives as the breeze from his opened window cools down Louis' heated skin. A part of Louis isn't too fond of the strange man and the other part of him was preening under the attention of Harry. Louis was shy, not stupid, it was clear with the irritation in Harry's tone that he was more than ready to end the conversation. After all, the stranger openly flirted with Louis just inches from Harry's face.</p><p>"I'm sorry about him, I know him and he's not good news." Harry apologizes. "I'm sorry about me too, I shouldn't have spoken for you."</p><p>"It's okay. I would've..." Louis trails off to yawn, "I would've said no, or not reply at all... 'm too shy." His voice dies down, barely audible over the car motor and his sister's snoring.</p><p>Louis' little confession seems to calm Harry down. The man reaches over to nudge Louis' limp hand. "You are shy. Do you get hit on often?"</p><p>Louis blushes bright red. "S-Sometimes but I just walk away, oh my, I tripped once," Louis recalls tumbling to the concrete after trying to escape a cute peer who asked for his number. "So embarrassing. N-Never wanna think about that again."</p><p>"Have you been on a date?"</p><p>Louis shakes his head, his hair falls over his eyes. "Never, ever. Makes me too nervous, men are so handsome." His eyes go wide, "Oh my, I'm em-embarrassing myself again!" He covers his face.</p><p>Harry shoots Louis a wide smile. The rest of the ride home is peaceful as the moon shines high and the stars glimmer. Louis is a little more than thankful for the party.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
They stumble down the hall, Louis' sister hanging off both their shoulders. Louis was never one for working out or drinking protein shakes, that might be why his knees buckle under all the weight. He crashes into his sister's bedroom door while trying to twist the knob and falls to the floor, thankfully it's carpet so the noise is only a thump. He winces, getting up, as Harry swings his sister over his shoulder and plops her on the bed. The mattress bounces under her weight. </p><p>"Ow," Louis frowns down at his knee, "Carpet burn."</p><p>Harry bends, his big hand grabs Louis' calf to get a better look. "C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." Then he sweeps Louis off the ground, with one arm behind his knees and the other around his back. It's so sudden that Louis almost gets lightheaded.</p><p>"I-It's nothing, Harry." Louis clenches tight on Harry's hair in surprise. The man ignores him and walks quietly. It's a little odd being this high off the ground, Louis shyly shields his panties from view when they enter the bathroom. Harry switches on the light with his elbow and places the boy on the counter.</p><p>Louis wiggles his toes as Harry runs the tap to wet a small washcloth, then crouches by his spread thighs. The man slowly pushes the sheer fabric of Louis' shorts, which wasn't necessary but Louis doesn't stop him. The air goes quiet as Harry's breath fans across Louis' skin.</p><p>"Men are handsome, huh?"</p><p>Louis jumps when the wet cloth touches his knee, it stung a little. Although the house was air-conditioned but in Harry's presence, everything seemed warmer, even hotter. "Yes..."</p><p>"What about me?" Harry inquires, gently pats the red mark on his skin. "Am I handsome, Louis?" He inches close until his lips are ghosting the boy's thigh.</p><p>"V-Very," Louis admits, gnawing on his bottom lip. "Super, um, p-pretty handsome."</p><p>Harry glances up. "Pretty handsome or pretty and handsome?" His green eyes are sparkling, cheekbones highlighted and his lips are rosy.</p><p>"Pretty and h-handsome."</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p><br/>
That night, Louis whines and whimpers while grinding against his pillow. He was twenty-years-old, and he was acting like a teenager. How could anyone blame him, Harry was so... Harry. It was impossible for Louis to contain himself in the privacy of his bedroom. He cries into his fist when he reaches his high, dropping to the plush mattress with a shaky breath. He hated and adored the effect Harry had on him. It was a sensual chokehold with his green eyes and a gentle caress of his words on Louis' foggy mind. He made Louis unpredictable and (even more) shy, he made Louis feel like a boy again.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Songs:<br/>She &amp; Him - Home<br/>Harry Styles - Golden<br/>Lana Del Rey - I Can Fly<br/>Taylor Swift - august<br/>She &amp; Him - If You Can't Sleep</p><p>drink water, lay back &amp; relax !</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KRM7eUfhtpveonNJ0ECEZ?si=t8_7o7e-QBCnADT2KwkKGA">Playlist Link</a>
</p><hr/><p> </p><p>Days go by, and Harry begins to strike up a conversation with Louis more often. Louis still stutters helplessly, twiddling his thumbs and nervously covering his cheeks with his hands.</p><p>Harry's presence, although intimidating, was a fresh stream of water on Louis' warm summer days. At first, it was strange for Louis to reply to his dimples and greetings. Now Louis finds himself watching Harry rather than where his paint lands, which leads to plenty of blue and purple drops landing on his clothes. Every word that came from Harry's lips had a sprinkle of his Greek accent, yet when he spoke in Italian, it was as if the Greek in him had disappeared.</p><p>Louis' ears longed to hear Harry speak. Louis' eyes begged to meet Harry's from across the yard, and they met every day. When Louis sunbathes, Harry works shirtless with his curly hair clipped back.</p><p>It wasn't something Louis was used to. The man's behaviour had his blood pressure rising, and Harry would only act like himself. His charming grin and his flirting, and his patient eyes that always waited for Louis to gather his thoughts between his stuttering. After spending the entirety of the last summer basking in the rays and studying (a less muscly) Harry, Louis had a death grip on their friendship.</p><p>As Harry drives away in his old truck and the moon sets every night, Louis shyly prepares for another day full of being too shy to speak to Harry and too needy to not reply.</p><p>Louis didn't want summer to end. Ever.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><br/>It's the early morning hours of July when Harry pulls into the Tomlinson property. He parks his old red truck on the road and enters the code of the gate. As he walks to the backyard, he plans his day. He'll clean the pool, pluck those last weeds by the back porch and check on the garden in the front of the house.</p><p>Although, he freezes in his steps upon entering the backyard. It's an open field, with a long pool and jacuzzi, a large patio with a couple of couches, an outdoor fireplace and a barbecue. Off to the side was a little shed where all the gardening and maintenance equipment was kept. It isn't the fantastic view of the morning sun reflecting off the ocean—it's more of an unusual view that catches his attention.</p><p>There's a boy lying on his belly, both bare feet up and his upper half under a small shrubbery. He's wearing blue plaid pants and a thin white t-shirt that's small enough to display the expanse of his lower back.</p><p>"Louis, what are you doing?" Harry stands astonished as he's shushed quite rudely, but a moment later Louis peeks from between the leaves. He has blue-tinted sunglasses on the tip of his nose.</p><p>"S-Sorry, please be quiet!"</p><p>Harry then joins Louis under the shrubbery to see what's got him so entranced that he's lying on his belly in the morning dewy grass. It turns out to be a bunny. A soft grey and so very small and so very fluffy. The nose wiggles while it chews. From a plate of various vegetables, Louis takes a small piece of lettuce and holds it out. To which, the bunny snatches it to munch quietly.</p><p>Harry leans over. "It looks like you." He whispers.</p><p>The boy giggles. The volume must've frightened the bunny because it hops away under the fence. Louis bids farewell with a tiny wave and wiggles out from the bush, Harry follows suit.</p><p>"I-I, rabbit?" Louis holds the plate, eating a tomato slice. There is an embroidered boat on his shirt and his stardust hair is pinned back with two tiny butterfly clips.</p><p>"No, but a bunny."</p><p>"How!" Louis' eyes are wide, and the blue is brighter than the sky.</p><p>Harry steps closer, "Well, bunnies have a button nose, a wiggly nose. They're soft, gentle. Bunnies are adorable, you can't help but want to take them home. And that's exactly what I want to do to you." He grabs a baby carrot from the plate and slips it between Louis' parted lips. "I'll see you later, <em>Giallo</em>." Then he's off.</p><p>After that, Louis hides away in his bedroom. With his head buried in his pillow, he squeals and wiggles around. Louis was a particularly smart boy, always at the top of his class and put his all into everything he handed in. An overachiever because it felt good to give something one's all—why give a little when one can give a lot? But for the sake of himself, he couldn't figure out why Harry called him <em>Giallo</em>—yellow! Yellow, of all things!</p><p>Yellow. Harry called him yellow. Of all things? Yellow?</p><p>Yellow! What was so special about yellow?</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p><br/>When Louis hears a truck pull up, he jumps up. "Harry!" He shouts, wildly waving to the man.</p><p>"Good morning, what—"</p><p>"Come here, please!" Louis can't contain his excitement, "P-Please, please!" The man is wearing a pair of linen shorts that Louis' never seen before, and no shirt.</p><p>"All right, all right, hold on." Harry grabs a backpack from the trunk and slips through the opened gate. He looks over Louis, gaze lingering on his exposed tummy. "You spotted another bunny?"</p><p>"I wish, oh my, they're so cute." Louis skips to the garage, tripping over his foot. He holds open his arms with a smile, hearing Harry stop behind him. "Here it is!"</p><p>Next to his lilac Cadillac is an empty spot that was previously occupied by old bikes and cluttered bins. There was even a little sign on the wall, <em>"For Harry"</em> on a slab of wood in pretty turquoise paint.</p><p>"You did this for me?"</p><p>"A-And your truck," Louis kicks away a pebble but peeks at Harry to see the surprise on his features. "It d-doesn't have to be out on the street anymore."</p><p>Cleaning took longer than expected since he and his mother had to go through all their old junk and move some to the basement. While his father lovingly teased Louis about his considerate actions towards Harry and his sister wouldn't shut up about how every time someone said Harry's name, Louis would turn red.</p><p>"You cleaned it yourself, <em>pup</em>?"</p><p>"I-I had help! I, um, it was hard to sort it all and the bikes are heavy—" Louis pulls up his silk strawberry print pant leg, the bottom hem is pink ruffles, "I've got bruises e-everywhere. Here too." He lifts his tiny white vest top to point around his ribs.</p><p>Harry looks at him fondly. Louis, sugary Louis, has the face of an angel, and the stars are his freckles—he wore constellations on his cheeks. "Poor <em>berry</em>,"</p><p><em>Pup</em>! <em>Berry</em>! Louis could squeal. "I want to donate the old bicycles. Will you help me?"</p><p>That night, Louis writes in his diary. He writes about Harry letting him drive his truck into the city, he writes about the weight of Harry's accent when he sings Greek songs. He includes heavy details of them donating the bicycles to a little second-hand shop. In capital letters, he writes about Harry calling him <em>pup</em> and <em>berry</em> again. And in giant letters in purple ink, he writes about Harry calling him <em>Giallo</em>.</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>August rolls around.</p><p>Louis fixes his eyeglasses, his feathery hair is held back by a shiny golden clip with little jewels and his oversized shirt slips revealing the delicate tanned skin of his shoulder. The white crocheted material contrasts against the floral linen of his shorts. He flips a page, letting the warm breeze carrying the smell of mowed grass brush over his face.</p><p>"How to Die?"</p><p>Louis jumps, almost falling off the hammock. "Harry, you're so—big, how are you so q-quiet?" The man was 6 '2 and all broad-shouldered (and beefy).</p><p>Harry laughs, loudly. It's a pleasant sound. "Does that book actually tell you how to die?"</p><p>"Oh my, of course not! Well, kind of—it's about rehearsing for death. N-Not like, oh goodness, it's about understanding the function of a g-good death in a good life." Louis quickly explains. "But, in that way you're thinking—learning how to die. That—That's dark." He covers his cheeks in embarrassment.</p><p>Harry smirks, leaning against the tree. He's wearing light blue overalls without a shirt. His solid back muscles and biceps made Louis' skin burn hotter than the sun. "You're in university now? What are you studying?"</p><p>"Philosophy. I l-live on campus so, uh, sushi or tacos for dinner. Sleeping, I try to but my roommate is so l-loud. You would not believe the things I have walked in on. My, my, I h-had no clue that many people can fit on a twin bed." Louis blushes brightly. "Oh my, I-I need to be quiet." He slaps his hands over his mouth.</p><p>Harry's eyes drop to Louis' chest covered in a thin layer of sweat. "Scooch over, yeah?"</p><p>Louis almost shrieks when the hammock goes unbalanced under Harry's weight. The two tumble backwards onto the grass, Louis' head and Harry's back thumping loudly. They both roll over, lying next to each other on the ground. The sun shines through the leaves.</p><p>"Guess we'll stay down here now." Harry mutters.</p><p>"Are you in school?" Louis closes his eyes briefly.</p><p>"I was." Harry leans up on his elbows, craning his neck to look at Louis. "I wanted to be a teacher."</p><p>"What happened?"</p><p>The man purses his lips. "Kept partying, school became a dreadful bore and I developed a heavy reliance on alcohol."</p><p>Louis blinks with raised eyebrows. With Harry's confession, he is speechless.</p><p>"It became bad enough that I dropped out, mooched off my parents and some friends for a while. Got my shit back together and my father's friend worked here before, Mr. Andrea, couldn't work anymore, he recommended me to your father." Harry faces the sky, his jawline is sharp. His beard and moustache were getting long.</p><p>"Will you ever go b-back to school?"</p><p>"I think about it a lot. My parents agreed to help me out, even though I was a nuisance and just wasted their money on booze. If I go back, I'd have to quit."</p><p>Louis rubs his belly from where his shirt had ridden up. "T-Then quit." Harry gives him a look. "I mean, you s-seem like you've got... your life—or most of it, together."</p><p>"If I quit, I won't come here anymore."</p><p><em>I won't see you anymore,</em> it goes unsaid but it's loud and clear. Louis faces the sky once again, "That's okay. If you want to be a teacher, I-I think you should try." He tries to not sound too pushy with his advice. He believed Harry could do it, all he had to do was try.</p><p>"I won't come here," Harry repeats. "School will take up most of my time. Since I live in the city, I'll get a job there to pay back my parents."</p><p>"That's—" Louis didn't want to not see Harry again, especially since they've gotten close, but summer didn't last forever. Harry's future wasn't going to be taking care of the Tomlinson property. "That's okay."</p><p>Harry huffs, "it's not. Don't say it is."</p><p>Louis threads his fingers through the crocheted holes of his shirt. "B-But it is. You know it."</p><p>The man sighs, acknowledging he's lost this battle. A silence falls upon them, the gentle melody of the birds singing over the cool wisp of wind. Louis keeps thinking about everything, about Harry, about the three weeks of summer vacation left.</p><p>It seemed like the world was teasing him. Allowing him a glimpse into the world of sweet affection embodied in a handsome patient man. It was something Louis had zero experience with—he's never been kissed, never been on a date (although asked and set up on plenty). His shyness got in the way everything, except Harry. The air around Harry accepted Louis for who he was and beckoned him out of his shell.</p><p>Harry reaches over, taking the eyeglasses off the boy's face. "You have beautiful eyelashes."</p><p>"You t-too," Louis feels Harry's eyes burning into his skin. "Your face, you—make me nervous." He's a vibrant red and he chews the inside of his cheek.</p><p>"How so?" Harry smiles small, rolls over until he's hovering over Louis. His arms are on either side of the boy's head. At this angle, the beams of sunshine cast through the leaves of the tree and frame his hair.</p><p>Louis gulps loudly, squeezing his fists over his chest. "Uh, I-I've never met someone s-so..."</p><p>"Go on," Harry edges cheekily, leaning down until their noses are centimetres apart.</p><p>"Perfect. I've never met someone so perfect."</p><p>"I'm perfect?"</p><p>A lump forms in Louis' throat, he's biting his tongue. His gaze locked on Harry's mouth. "Uh-huh." He gasps when he feels a pair of lips press on his nose.</p><p>"If I'm perfect," Harry presses another kiss to Louis' cheeks, "Then, you're <em>Giallo</em>."</p><p>"Yellow?"</p><p>"<em>Kítrinos</em>, <em>Giallo</em>."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>Harry nuzzles his nose on Louis' cheek, breathing hotly on his skin. "Why not?" He slips between Louis' thighs.</p><p>"I-I," Louis has never been this close to a man before, he didn't know how to act. So he shut his eyes and kept his hands to himself. "'m not yellow—I'm L-Louis."</p><p>"Yellow is my favourite colour," Harry says short, lips pressed against the boy's cheeks sprinkled with freckles. The very tip of Louis' nose carrying a cherry red, sunburn probably, or his sweet blush.</p><p>It was an innocent revelation that would've been brushed off if it weren't for the twinkle in Harry's eyes.</p><p>"When the sun is setting and it's golden. That yellow is my favourite. There's no feeling like watching the sunset—just tranquillity. Like all worries and fears slip away and nothing else matters." It was getting a glimpse past the gates into heaven. "And that yellow, and that feeling, is you."</p><p>To Harry, Louis was the colour and feeling that came with the sunset. He was the yellow that painted the sky and reflected off the ocean. Louis, a golden yellow with shimmer that radiated calm and warmth.</p><p>Once again, Louis couldn't find the words to say. No one has ever spoken to him so softly. No one has ever honoured him with such a graceful name. Harry spoke the truth with confidence, and the truth was that he liked Louis. He really liked Louis.</p><p>The easiest thing to do is fall for someone. Meeting their eyes in purity and letting gravity do the rest. Then, strap in for a journey that can make or break the future. The scariest part is falling unconsciously. Not knowing the look in one's eyes when seeing them, the look—no one ever sees the look. This wasn't scary, not one bit, because Harry knew how he was looking at the boy under him. He didn't want to look away.</p><p>"Have you ever been kissed?"</p><p>Louis shakes his head and the grass tickles the back of his neck. "I'm too shy."</p><p>Oh, delicious Louis. Twenty-years-old, and he's never been kissed. "Are you too shy to let me kiss you?"</p><p>"Yes—no, no! Oh my," Louis licks his lips, "p-please?"</p><p>Harry leans down until their lips brush but then pulls away. "Meet me at the beach tonight."</p><p>Louis makes a confused noise, fingers gripping the straps of Harry's overalls. He was a little lightheaded with their close proximity. He's never held a boy's hand before, much less had a man between his legs. Louis didn't know how to act.</p><p>"Tonight, I will kiss you."</p><p>Louis whines softly. The tips of Harry's hair touch his forehead as the man peppers more smooches to his face.</p><p>"I would like to watch the sunset with you."<br/><br/></p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Songs:<br/>Orville Peck - Summertime<br/>Taylor Swift - You Are In Love<br/>Taylor Swift - epiphany<br/>Coldplay - Yellow</p><p>be nice to be nice, kissy !</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <a href="https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KRM7eUfhtpveonNJ0ECEZ?si=T9AwMg21RU2o0mvZ_UT7ww">Playlist Link</a>
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<hr/><p> </p><p>Of course, Louis' sister crowds him later that night. She saw the whole thing from the window and didn't let him leave until he told her everything. Unable to lie or simply tell her '<em>no</em>', Louis gives a short stuttery summary of his and Harry's conversation. It ends with him running to his car, yelling about being late. With his inability to control his feet, he trips and scraps his chin, hands, and knees.</p><p>He doesn't leave until twenty minutes past their agreed time since his mother cleaned his wounds and tapped some gauze to his bloody chin and knees. He tries to not speed down the road and somewhat succeeds. The looming fear of Harry leaving had him parking haphazardly. The sun is already setting, the golden rays casting upon the sand and the water.</p><p>Arriving at the beach, thankfully Harry was leaning against the hood of his truck. Again, although on a much softer surface than concrete, Louis trips and lands face-first on the ground. He gags, spitting out sand and dusting his clothes.</p><p>"Oh, <em>berry</em>, you're such a <em>fawn</em>, c' mere."</p><p>Louis is spun around and catches sight of a blanket on the shore and just a bit away from the crashing waves. Harry looks down at him, yellow sunglasses holding back his hair. He's wearing a soft tank top and patchwork pants of various patterns and loud colours. "What happened?" It wasn't odd for Louis to appear with a new injury, but Harry didn't expect to see two bandages on his chin.</p><p>"Was runnin' when I shouldn't have." Louis touches the bandaids just under his lip, the points to the large one on his left knee, "hurt me hands and knees too."</p><p>Harry frowns, "You weren't being careful."</p><p>"I was excited t-to see you." The boy kicks at the sand. "That's why I'm late. Never runnin' in flip flops again."</p><p>"That's why you've got no shoes on?" Harry gently takes his hand and leads him to the blanket on the sand.</p><p>"Forgot to put them on again."</p><p>Harry sits on the green blanket, patting the spot next to him.</p><p>"I can't bend my k-knees," Louis mutters, embarrassment painting his cheeks an apple red. Harry, the sweetheart he is, stands and lifts Louis up. With his arms behind Louis' back and his knees, he sits down again with Louis on his lap.</p><p>"This better?"</p><p>"Butter—I-I mean better!" Louis' brain nearly shuts off. His bottom was very close to Harry's crotch, he tried not to wiggle around. There was a heat bubbling in his chest.</p><p>Harry locks one hand around Louis' waist, petting the skin between his orange plaid shorts and matching cropped button-up. "Did you eat dinner?"</p><p>"Y-Yes, my mother made lasagna."</p><p>"What about dessert?"</p><p>"I had some oatmeal cookies," Louis faces away when Harry's fingers dip into the band of his shorts, he doesn't touch any further. He only presses into the squishy meat of Louis' hips. "Brought you some, it's in my car—in a little b-box, I painted it indigo with a bit of glitter."</p><p>The man grins, dimples deep craters in his cheeks. "Thank you." Then, he just watches Louis. He watches his skin bloom pink and his blue eyes blink at the waves.</p><p>"You're makin' me nervous again," Louis rubs his eyes aggressively, "Y-You keep watching me. You're supposed to look there." He points to the sun, "Not m-me!"</p><p>"Am I?"</p><p>"Yes! You said so."</p><p>Harry hums, pulling the boy closer until his chest is flush against Louis' shoulder. "Did I?"</p><p>"Y-Yes," Louis gasps when Harry lightly nibbles his chubby cheek. His beard and moustache are rough on his skin and he loves it.</p><p>"I meant I wanted to watch you watch the sunset. Is that all right?"</p><p>The boy's blue eyes shine, the harmony rivalling Gogh's Starry Night. "I g-guess so..." Louis doesn't realize his hands are tight fists. He relaxes, allowing the fresh ocean air to fill his lungs.</p><p>The sun lowers below the horizon, taking the beaming rays with it. It colours the sky a wash of orange and pink, the yellow spreading into the clouds. The waves wash up on shore, Louis wanted to go for a swim, but he had no swim shorts. He sits pretty in Harry's lap with his hands clasped loosely. He forces himself to stay still and not turn slightly, then he'd make awkward eye contact with Harry—who was still watching him.</p><p>The wind is humid and there's a thin sheen of sweat covering Louis' skin. His hair is quite long and falls over his eyes (since he forgot to put one of his clips on), Harry wanted to braid it. His fingers card through Louis' sandy locks, touching the tips that curl behind his ears and at the base of his neck. His hand trails further, tracing Louis' jaw with his thumb. Even with the darkness slowly taking over the city, there was enough light to see the freckles on Louis' skin. The boy's lashes brush along his cheekbones, the tip of his nose is still sunburnt. His lips are rose petals, as smooth as the ones in the garden that Harry tends to almost every day, it's the most exquisite colour Harry's ever seen.</p><p>"Do you see the yellow?"</p><p>Louis nods slowly.</p><p>"How do you feel, <em>sweet swan</em>?"</p><p>Louis feels the warmth comb over his skin. He feels the calm that the setting sun radiates, he feels the troubles melt away, he feels it all. "I f-feel everything you said." He wants to capture the sun in his hands, spread it across the darkest corners of the world and allow everything to bask in the feeling of the glow.</p><p>"What else do you feel?"</p><p>"I feel like I want you to k-kiss me." Louis murmurs, still facing the ocean. He shivers when Harry breathes into his neck.</p><p>Harry's hand cradles his chin, wary of the bandages, and turns Louis to face him. With a final look, Harry kisses him. Louis slips into another world, his eyes falling shut and he helplessly follows Harry's lead. The man keeps him close, presses harder into his lips with a dainty taste of passion. He licks Louis' lip, the latter making a tiny noise in the back of his throat.</p><p>Harry kisses him with grace. His slow, tender lips never let up, he wants to taste every inch of Louis. And he does. Tilting Louis' face to kiss him deeper, licking into his mouth with a low groan. The boy is inexperienced and it shows through his delayed reactions to Harry's masterful lips.</p><p>They could both feel it bursting at the seams. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling but it was overwhelming. Harry feels it every time he drives home. Louis feels it every time he spots Harry from across the yard. It was the feeling of a muted summer evening, the feeling of floating on a gentle river, the feeling of cascading down a silk rope and into a bed of feathers and flowers. They could hear it too, just between the crashing of the waves. It was such a feeling and clouds their minds.</p><p>Pulling away, a single string of saliva between their mouths. The sun was gone, the sky now an orange and purple. Even then, Harry's tan skin was almost golden. "You are divine." The man drags his thumb over Louis' swollen lips.</p><p>Louis turns a marvellous scarlet. "I, o-oh my, my. How—what do I say to t-that?"</p><p>"Nothing."</p><p>Harry decides right then and there, he could watch the world go by in the reflection of Louis' eyes.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>Summer is coming to an end and Louis spends every waking moment with Harry or thinking of him. He went over to Harry's apartment he shared with two friends, a married couple he grew up with.</p><p>One of them offered Louis a cigarette and Harry proceeded to shut him down in Greek, while Louis stood and wondered what they were saying.</p><p>
  <em>"He doesn't smoke," Harry spoke for him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Oh," The friend nodded, opening a drawer and taking out a small baggie. "Weed?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"He doesn't smoke at all." Harry grabbed a container of strawberries and Louis' hand. "Keep that shit in your room and don't smoke when Lou is here." </em>
</p><p>Louis has never been in love. He wasn't in love with Harry, Harry wasn't in love with him. Oh, but on whatever gods live above, they could have been. Harry was a dream with a kind soul and patient eyes. He never got irrational and he always waited for Louis to eat first before he did. When Louis invited him for dinner, he flirted shamelessly in front of Louis' parents and offered to do the dishes. He even kissed Louis in front of his friends.</p><p>"<em>You..." Louis covered his cheeks with his hands, "In f-front of your friends!"</em></p><p>
  <em>"Yes, is there a problem?" Harry covered Louis' hands with his own. Keeping the boy's cheeks squished.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"N-No, j-just... you kissed me the naughty way." </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I made out with you, sweet swan." The man grinned wildly. "What's wrong with a little tongue, eh?"</em>
</p><p>During similar make-out sessions during picnics on the beach or in the Tomlinson backyard, Louis has embarrassed himself by getting a little too excited but Harry was never embarrassed. He could keep kissing Louis, even with the hard tent in his jeans. Louis on the other hand, would excuse himself and relieve the uncomfortable tightness in his bedroom. Once he returns outside, Harry would smirk and ask him if he had a good time. Louis would turn as red as a freshly ripe strawberry.</p><p>Harry gave him a rainbow blocked cardigan. It was oversized on himself, so it devoured Louis' frail shoulders. It smelt like Harry, the honey and vanilla. Even carrying the lingering hint of cigarettes from his roommate.</p><p>Harry listens to Louis read from his philosophy textbooks, never getting annoyed by his constant stuttering. Harry let Louis paint his nails again, opting for a pattern of bright blue and the same yellow. In his wallet, Harry keeps a tiny polaroid of Louis sleeping on the hammock. Hanging on his rearview mirror was a string of pearls and colourful beads that Louis had gifted him.</p><p>Harry holds him tight, accent slightly heavier when he whispers into Louis' ear as they watch the sunset on the last night of Louis' summer vacation.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>To Harry, Louis was a wispy fairy. The brightest, shimmering angel of nature with glittery skin. The blue of eyes, that was the blue of the deep ocean. His hair was golden sand falling into his face before his gentle fingers brushed it out of the way. Louis didn't walk, (he sure did trip) but fairy Louis, <em>Giallo</em> Louis that Harry saw, he flew. Soaring high above the clouds, past the sun, dropping down to earth for the sake of Harry.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>The car is packed, his sister is already sleeping in the backseat. His parents are doing last-minute checkups and in the backyard, Louis is pouting. He's wearing a light blue shirt, the front tied by a white ribbon. His jeans shorts are showing off his tanned thighs.</p><p>Harry tugs at the strings of Louis' shirt, "Are you going to miss me?"</p><p>Louis pouts and holds the belt loops of the man's jeans. "Yes..."</p><p>"Poor <em>duck</em>," Harry lifts the boy into his arms, swaying them slowly. He doesn't say much else. Only rubbing his hands up and down Louis' back, burying his nose into his hair.</p><p>This summer was over. Louis would go back to school, Harry would remain in Greece. Their few treasured moments would be memories. When Louis gets home, the first thing he'll do is write Harry a letter. He wants to cry and could feel the heat in his cheeks. He quickly hides in Harry's bare chest. He shouldn't be so upset, Harry wasn't his boyfriend—Harry was just the sweetest, most gentle man Louis has ever met.</p><p>"Oh, <em>Giallo</em>." Harry cooed, lifting Louis by his chin and kissing his nose. "Don't cry."</p><p>Louis responds by rubbing his face into Harry's red and white striped shirt. A honk of a car makes Louis whine.</p><p>"C'mon, <em>berry</em>." Harry pats Louis' plump bottom. "<em>Pup, fawn, sweet swan</em> and <em>duck</em>." Harry lists, "You've got to go."</p><p>Louis doesn't want to leave. He didn't want to say goodbye, but he had to. Harry smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. It's clear he's trying to reassure Louis. He presses a kiss to Louis' forehead, then another on his ear, on his nose, and just the corner of his lips.</p><p>"Be careful with yourself, please," Harry whispers into Louis' neck.</p><p>"Will you remember m-me?"</p><p>"Am I supposed to pretend I never want to see you again?"</p><p>Louis' blue eyes shine, his lashes blink up at Harry. Twirling Louis' hair around his finger, Harry grows serious. "I'll remember you, up here," he taps the boy's temple, "and here." His hand trails down the expanse of Louis' skin until reaching his chest. His big thumb taps, right over his heart.</p><p>"P-Promise?" The boy doesn't stutter, his voice cracks.</p><p>"I promise, <em>Giallo</em>." His sweet <em>Kítrinos</em>. Harry lets Louis slip from his fingers, "cross my heart."</p><p>Louis, not trusting his voice, does a little cross over his chest. He turns, head hung low and hops into his parents' car. The last thing he sees is Harry waving from the gate. Harry, the man with daydream eyes, the keeper of Louis' first kiss, and a small piece of his heart.</p><p>Harry could call Louis anything. <em>Pup, berry, fawn, sweet swan</em>, and <em>duck</em>. Louis was <em>berry</em> when he was hurt, he was <em>pup</em> when he did something good. He was <em>fawn</em> when he was clumsy, which was all the time. He was <em>sweet swan</em> when he was nervous, and <em>duck</em> when he was pouty.</p><p>Louis will always be Harry's yellow, his <em>Kítrinos, </em>his<em> Giallo. </em>The colour and the feeling.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>there it is !! Epilogue coming soon :^) (there will be smut in it)</p><p>
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</p><p>i hope everyone enjoyed this story. thank you for reading. feel free to tell me your thoughts in the comments :^)</p>
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